


Midnight Show

by vtn



Category: Green Day
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-12
Updated: 2005-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-11 12:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtn/pseuds/vtn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billie, Mike, and Tré spend a quiet night together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Show

**Author's Note:**

> Here are the original notes: _myheadisgreen (sorry, my little brother typed that). This is a very cute, very fluffy, very short piece. The title is (if I'm not delusional) a Killers song, but the story has absolutely nothing to do with the song itself. Enjoy._

“I’m not cold,” said Tré, crossing his arms and pouting stubbornly off into the night air, the light from the embers in the grill causing shadows to dance across his sharp features. The glow highlighted the way he bit his lower lip, and the slight little shiver he gave as he made his protest.

Mike knew better, of course. He knew not only that ‘I’m not cold’ was just an attempt to be macho and resist the temptation to go all soft and snuggly, but also that it was only a half-hearted one, and in the sudden chill that always settled in on those spring nights in Oakland, Tré wanted nothing more than his best friends’ warm embrace. Smirking knowingly, he tapped Billie Joe on the shoulder. Billie looked up from his lap, where from what Mike could see he was rubbing his fingers in circles over the scratched metal of a harmonica.

“What’s up?” Billie inquired softly. He did not return Mike’s smile with his lips, but Mike could see it in his eyes, warm and loving.

“Tré says he’s not cold,” Mike replied, and Billie, of course, understood immediately. He pushed himself up from the ground and walked over to the bench where Tré sat shivering, patting Mike on the shoulder as he did so. Mike grinned and followed over to the bench, and they took a seat on either side of Tré, each wrapping a surely-welcomed arm around the drummer. Tré let out a long sigh, and nested his head in Mike’s shoulder. Mike felt Tré’s muscles relax against him, and Billie Joe’s arm snaked all the way around Tré’s back to rest on Mike’s shoulder.

“Anything bugging you, Tré?” Billie Joe asked, leaning his head on Tré’s shoulder so they sort of looked like human dominoes, or perhaps like plants stretching out to the sun. Except as opposed to there being an outer source of light, the light was caught somewhere between the three of them—and it would be natural that they’d get tangled up together trying to reach for it. In fact, that was when they were closest. Mike figured, to get any closer they’d have to be one person.

They were in love, you see. And that was why it was perfectly normal, and not in the least bit strange, for them to hold each other on the picnic bench and share so easily the things that they could never tell anyone else. A car alarm went off in the distance.

“Yeah, kinda.” Tré shifted a bit, still resting his head on Mike’s shoulder, so that Mike could feel his friend’s hot breath on his neck—much better than the chilly night air.

“Tell the campfire circle…” Billie Joe said with a soft chuckle.

“Mm…I dunno, it’s just…” Tré scrunched up his face. “It’s just, you know the saying, if it’s too good to be true, it probably is?”

“Mhmm,” said Billie and Mike at once.

“Well…what if I wake up, and it’s all a dream?” He looked so forlorn in that moment, so afraid, that Mike couldn’t help but tighten his grip on his hand. “What if I’m the only one who ever was silly enough to go and…go and fall in love…I mean it’s crazy, who falls in love with two people at once? But it just seems to right, so…” He trailed off, and Mike brought him closer into his arms, Billie Joe draping one leg over either side of the bench so he could do the same.

“Tré, sweet baby Tré,” Billie said, almost in a whisper, “If this is a dream, you’ll wake up from it just like you are now—with one of us on either side of you.”

“Tré,” Mike added, feeling almost overwhelmed with his wanting to comfort the man—man? He was scarcely more than a kid—that he held in his arms, “If this is a dream, I’ll make sure none of us wake up. It’s the best one I could ever have.”

“Mike? Billie Joe? I love you guys more than anything else in the world.”

None of them really wondered how long that embrace lasted, but eventually the coals’ orange glow faded, and the three of them found themselves no longer cold at all, sitting side by side on the picnic bench under the ocean of sky that was swimming with stars, both real ones and the artificial ones created by the lights of planes and buildings. Billie Joe piped out a soft tune on the harmonica, and Tré drummed along with his fingers on Mike’s arm, as Mike hummed, trying to harmonize.

It was, Mike reflected, one of the best live shows Green Day had ever played.  


**Author's Note:**

> AMS  
> May 12, 2005


End file.
